The novel "Monologues of Isabel Watching the Rain in Macondo" by the famous Colombian writer Márquez is one of the short story collection "The Eyes of the Blue Dog". At his home in the small town of Macondo, the author witnessed and experienced scenes of love, rain, and fear of rain after the torture of extreme heat. Márquez's ethereal imagination superimposes on various contradictions, breaks through the haze barrier, and presents in the sky, the contest between the visible and the invisible, the alternation of loneliness, death, absurdity, and hope, so that you cannot use dialectical theory to solve.
Reading "Isabel's Monologues While Watching the Rain in Macondo" is like doing a difficult application problem in mathematics, not knowing how to list the equations, and the equations listed, as if there is no direction to solve. Those characters and stories are like chaotic clouds, floating at will, without rules and references, one moment is scorched, the other is rainy, making people wonder about their movements. Of course, the story is presented in an orderly manner in a disordered time and space. The words of time in the text let you grasp this rope and walk, and you will know the story that happened in this time and space. For example, "During Mass on Sunday, winter hastily arrived." "It's still too hot to breathe on Saturday night." "It rains all day on Monday." "At noon on Wednesday, it wasn't light yet, but before three o'clock in the afternoon, it was all dark again." "The concept of time has been messed up since yesterday, by which time it has all been lost. So Thursday didn't exist either, it was at best a tangible, jelly-like thing that could even be pulled open by hand so that the probe could see Friday. In contrast, Tuesday Nap Hour also has a timeline, but their story is basically an absurd, bizarre story that happens one day. This article recreates a story of the week.
Reading this novel, your mind will follow the author's tangible events, and as you walk, he will take you to an invisible, empty time and space, as if you are air, a dead person, a pair of eyes or objects in time and space. Whimsy and reverie make you a vacuum, a tangible figure in the void self, a fantasy in contradiction. As I said, I looked back at him, but Martin was no longer there. Only to hear him say, it seems that don't expect the rain to stop. When I followed the sound to find someone, all I saw was an empty chair. "I walked aimlessly and subconsciously, feeling that I had also become a vast wasteland, covered with algae, moss, and gorgeous, weak mushrooms, all grown by something dark, damp, and disgusting." "Father's voice is far apart, not by ear, but by touch." "Suddenly, I felt like my heart had turned into a cold stone. I'm dead, I thought, oh my God! I'm dead. ”
The heat of many days makes people suffocate and breathe, it is really hot to die. Long and difficult days, finally looking forward to the rain. When the rain comes, so does hope: "It's raining, and the rosemary and tuberose in the pots have come back to life in the rain." "Father smiled, and he had a particularly good appetite for this lunch." It can rain continuously, which brings inconvenience and boredom to everyone. It was raining with full force, the stepmother's smile had narrowed, and yesterday's joy had turned to irritation and boredom; my father's spine was aching. "Because of the distraught rain, the two blind girls didn't come to my house to sing us little songs." "I felt an unbearable, painful fear." We don't think about eating anymore. The cows that fell into the garden swamp trembled and died silently. The church was about to collapse after flooding, and the river washed the tracks away, and the train could not cross the bridge. "The water washed away all the graves, and the poor dead bodies were all floating in the cemetery." Surviving the rain devil, enduring torture, enduring the fear of loneliness, and the contradictory things developed into the dawn of hope, "Then I heard the train whistle. "Only then did I notice that the rain had stopped, and there was a silence all around us, a deep, mythical happiness."
Ma Tianxing's imagination reveals the light in the interweaving of despair and hope. The will in the text, the imagination, we can not use the ruler to measure, use the elevation to identify the fixed point. Márquez constructs contradictory ideological dimensions, allowing Yi xiang to break through the inherent mindset, let the story travel through surreal time and space, let himself be feathered into a falcon, and look down on the changes and development of all things in the tangible and invisible. Just like the Tao advocated by Lao Tzu, it is illusory, and it conforms to the changes of nature and returns to inaction.
Text/Figure Cui Fanxin